The Tales of Elibe
by PowerSneakers
Summary: A more in depth look at the different countries of Elibe and the people living in them.
1. A Son's Promise

**Part 1: The King of Bern**

* * *

**Chapter 1: A Son's Promise**

Staring out at Bern castle from the manse where he and his mother resided, Zephiel wondered how Guinevere was doing. It had only been two days since they had last seen each other, and already he missed her greatly. Up until recently, there hadn't been any problems. It was only after the archery competition Zephiel participated in and nearly won that King Desmond had banished him to the manse where his mother had already been living. Even before his banishment though, Zephiel visited his mother every day and often times slept at the manse with her.

_Why?_ he wondered as he watched the sun slowly creep over the mountains that surrounded Bern. _Why does father not wish for me to not see my own sister? Have I done something to offend her to the point that she would ask father not to be seen by me? Or perhaps I did something to offend father. I must find out._

"Zephiel?" Surprised at the unexpected voice, Zephiel jumped slightly as he turned to face the unknown person.

"Mother," he said, his voice somewhat shaky. "I did not expect to see you awake so early. What are you doing up?"

"I was about to ask you the same question."

"I was just…thinking."

"About what?"

"Guinevere."

"Guinevere?" Zephiel swallowed nervously. There was something unsettling about the way his mother said her daughter's name. It was not one of love, the way a mother should feel toward her daughter. He wasn't sure how to describe it, but he knew it was of an ill nature. "You are aware of your relationship with her, aren't you?"

"Of course. She is my sister."

"No, Zephiel. She is your half-sister."

"What does that mean?"

"Your father had relations with another woman merely months after he and I wedded. The one you call your sister is a result of their abomination of an affair." Zephiel still had a look of confusion on his face, so Hellene explained further. "You both have different mothers, but the same father."

"And that's bad?"

"Very."

"Why?

"What?" Again Zephiel heard the same unsettling tone from his mother.

"Why is that a bad thing?" Zephiel said nervously. "Does that simply not mean that we have a bigger family?"

Hellene sighed heavily. "You have much to learn about the world, Zephiel. There are many people out there who would do all in their power to see you fail. Both Guinevere and King Desmond fall into that category."

"What? But why?"

"Because they do not care about you."

"But Guinevere and I always get along so well. She has never been hostile toward me or you." Hellene's face turned into a permanent scowl when she heard that. "And father allows me to stay here at this manse with you." Now Hellene was practically snarling. "Surely such kindness is proof they care about me."

"They don't. If they show you any sign of concern for your well being, it is merely an attempt to win your favor so that they may exploit your position once you become the King."

"I see. And…do you think I'd make a good King?"

"Of course. You will be far better than Desmond ever hoped to be."

There was a short pause before either spoke up. "Mother?"

"Hm? What is it?"

"Thank you," Zephiel said, embracing Hellene in a hug that clearly caught her off guard. After a few moments, he released her and left her alone. Misguided as she was, Zephiel saw her as merely trying to protect him from what she perceived to be a dangerous situation. It was up to him to show her otherwise.

Going toward the small study upstairs, Zephiel readied a feather with ink and began to write. He did not need to think or consider his words, as they already said what he believed to be true.

'I know a King must be strong and wise for his people, so I will become both in every way imaginable. From this day forward, I will hone my skills and become someone father deems worthy of passing the throne to. If I am to be the King of Bern, I swear to do all that I can for the people of Bern. But most of all, I wish for peace amongst my family. That is what I want above all else.'


	2. Loyal to a Fault

**Chapter 2: Loyal to a Fault**

Standing ever vigilant at the entrance of the manse, donning full armor with his tomahawk in hand was General Murdock. Tasked as Zephiel's bodyguard and trusted as King Desmond's second in command, Murdock was in constant conflict regarding who his loyalty was to, a trait he held in very high regard.

To look at him now, you would not have known he was born and raised in extreme poverty. Though he was able to climb to his current position through his own hard work, he attributed his success to his friends and family who would regularly go without eating and literally give him the clothes off of their backs so that he would not have to do without. He never asked them why they helped him so much with no guarantee of reaping any benefit, but believed it was because they saw his potential when even he could not and helped him to fully realize it.

It was for this reason that Murdock felt an overwhelming urge to protect Zephiel and be at his beckoned call, even more so now considering the manner in which Desmond had started treating him recently. Zephiel had potential that everyone but him could see, yet his own father was doing all he could to snuff it out. Murdock had made it his personal mission to ensure that such an event did not happen.

At the same time, it was King Desmond who, despite the "advice" from several advisers not to do so, chose Murdock as his second in command. In fact, much of Bern's current army went into an uproar when they heard news of Murdock's promotion over the favored and very well liked knight, Sir Bachnin. For several months, they all resented Murdock and treated him as if he were a leper. He outclassed Bachnin in every way possible, and still Desmond was the only one who backed him.

"Murdock." The general nearly jumped at the mention of his name, though only because of who was calling it.

"Prince Zephiel. Is there trouble? Are you harmed? Your mother? Is she hurt?"

"No, Murdock, nothing is wrong. I just needed to go to Bern Castle––"

"And you need an escort?"

"No. There's plenty of daylight out."

"Then is it gold you require? However much you need, I will get it for you."

"No, it's not that either."

"Whatever it is you need, my prince, simply speak your request and I will do it."

"I need you to move."

"What do you mean?"

You're blocking the only way out of the manse."

"Oh. Of course. I should have known. I apologize, Prince Zephiel. Please forgive me for being in your way. It will not happen again."

"It's alright, Murdock. There's no need for you to apologize."

"Of course. And if you still need an escort…"

"I'll be alright. Just stay here and guard Mother."

"But then you will not have anyone guarding you."

"Don't worry about me. Her safety is more important than mine."

"Prince Zephiel, I must ask that you reconsider. I'm sure if I asked, she would be more than happy to come with us."

"I'm asking you to stay here and guard her until I return. I don't want to have to order you, so please do what I am asking not as my bodyguard but as my friend."

Murdock didn't know what to say. During his training in Bern, it was drilled into your head that whoever you served was always above you. To put yourself on the same level was just about the worst thing you could do. Zephiel always said it didn't matter, but this was the first time Murdock truly believed him.

"It will be done."

"Thank you. I'll be back soon. Oh, and Murdock?"

"Yes?"

"Don't worry so much or you'll start to get bags under your eyes."

It didn't take long for Murdock to become worried for his charge. He had no doubt that Zephiel could make it to Bern Castle and back safely. It was how Desmond would treat him once he got there that worried Murdock. Their conversation during the archery contest was still fresh in his mind.

"Look at him, Murdock." The hate Desmond had for Zephiel coated his every word in an ugly bile of jealousy.

"Mm." Familiar with such a tone, Murdock pretended not to notice because of what Desmond had done for him and simply opted not to say anything regarding his true feelings.

"What do you think of him?" Desmond asked after a long silence.

"Pardon?" Though he tried to stay calm, Murdock had become very nervous at being asked such a question from Desmond. He could always lie, but that could just as well cause Desmond to further berate his son, something Murdock would only be able to bear for so long.

"What do you think of Zephiel?"

"How do you mean?"

"It is a simple question, Murdock, and I do not appreciate you beating around the bush."

"He is…quite the skilled youth. It must give you great pride to be his father."

"Hmph!"

"Is there a problem?"

"Yes! It is you!"

"Sir?"

"I do not need to live through my son to feel pride. The fact that you would even suggest such a thing is…unsettling."

"I apologize, sire. I did not mean to offend you."

"It seems as though you have forgotten how much you owe me for your current position."

"No! Of course not! I would never––"

"Leave me, Murdock. And pray the tax collectors that have been looking for your family do not happen upon them soon."

As far as Murdock knew, Desmond had not followed through on his threat as of yet, though a gut feeling told him it was a matter of when rather than if he would do so.

"Murdock!"

"Lady Hellene. How goes your morning? Are you––"

"Enough kissing up already." Until Zephiel had been banished to the manse with his mother, Murdock had had almost no interaction with her. With Zephiel's description of her though, he expected a much kinder woman than the one standing in front of him. It had quickly become obvious to him that she had a feeling of superiority to everyone she spoke to.

Even so, Hellene was still someone Zephiel cared for very much, which as far as Murdock was concerned, superseded his own feelings toward her.

"What can I do for you, Lady Hellene?"

"First off, you can stop pretending as if you care about me or my son."

_Well she's half right_, Murdock thought to himself.

"Secondly, you can tell me where he went. After all, you _are_ supposed to be his bodyguard, are you not?"

"He departed to Bern Castle some time ago, but––"

"And why didn't you go with him?" she yelled, pointing a finger just inches away from his face. _At least she shows concern for Zephiel's safety._

"If something were to happen to him, that wench Guinevere will be given a husband and take the throne."

_Well it was a nice thought. I wonder what Zephiel sees in his parents to love such vile people. Perhaps it is his naïveté. Or maybe he doesn't know how to hate someone. A rare trait in anyone, even at his age._

"Hey!" Hellene yelled, snapping Murdock out of his train of thought. "Did you not hear me, or are you willfully ignoring me?"

"I was not giving you my full attention. I apologize, Lady Hellene."

"I don't need your worthless apologies. I need you to move so I can get to Bern Castle and check on my son since you seem incapable of doing your job."

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, milady."

"What?!"

"Zephiel asked me to watch over you and the manse until he returned from the castle, and I intend to do just that."

"I am ordering you to step aside and allow me passage so that I may protect my son, something you seem incapable of doing."

Murdock had had enough. He was going to put Hellene in her place in the only way that would affect her. "You say that you wish to protect Zephiel, but you have yet to refer to him by name in this conversation."

"So?"

"Surely you do not appreciate Desmond treating you as the other woman when it was you he wedded."

"How dare you!"

It wasn't enough. He had to keep going. "If he had called you his wife even once, you would not harbor such anger toward him. You may even try to justify his current actions toward you."

"Stop it! Stop it right now!"

"But what does it matter? Just like you still care about Zephiel even though you do not refer to him by name, Desmond still cares about you as a person and his wife despite not calling you such."

"Just shut up!"

"Hopefully now, you understand why I might be doubtful of your care for Zephiel."

"But I _do_ care about him!"

"Then prove it by doing as he asked. Wait here until he returns." Hellene didn't respond, instead storming off to another room of the manse. She didn't need to say a single word though. The scowl that seemed to be permanently etched into her face spoke volumes.


	3. A Father's Scorn

**Chapter 3: A Father's Scorn**

* * *

"Sir!" a Bern soldier yelled, racing in to Desmond's throne room, clearly out of breath. "A report from the south guard."

"Can't you see I'm busy?" Desmond barked, not looking up from the papers he had laid out in front of him. "Whatever the problem is, take care of it yourself."

"But, sir. It's Zephiel. He's headed here at this very moment." Without another word, Desmond jumped up and ran out to meet his son as quickly as he could, not waiting to hear all that the soldier had to say. It wasn't until he had stepped outside and begun to survey the horizon that he allowed himself to catch his breath.

"Where?" he said to no one in particular. "Where is Zephiel?" There was only one way into the castle on foot, yet Desmond could see no one approaching the castle, let alone his son. After only a few minutes of waiting, he barged back inside.

"Sir!" another soldier said. "Prince Zephiel has arrived has asked for an audience with you."

"What? Where is he?"

"In the courtyard, milord."

"How?"

"On a Wyvern, sir. How else would he get there? Surely not on foot. After all, Bern is surrounded…"

Desmond couldn't believe it. He hadn't even begun training to ride a Wyvern until he was twice Zephiel's age. It took him him two and a half years to stay on for more than a few minutes, and another four years to finally master it. His instructors always told him that he was progressing incredibly fast.

"You're at the top of your age group, milord!" they would say. "You're even better than some Wyvern Lords. You're sure to become the greatest Wyvern rider in the history of Bern."

_Was it all a lie?_ Desmond wondered. _Did they just tell me what I wanted to hear simply because I was the prince?_

"King Desmond?" the soldier said. "Are you alright, sir?"

"Return to the courtyard," Desmond said as he walked back to his throne room.

"And do what, sir?"

"Tell Zephiel that I do not wish to see him."

"And what should I say if he asks why?"

"Tell him I'm busy."

"With what, sir?"

"Make something up. Just get him to leave."

"And Guinevere?" That one name caused Desmond to stop dead in his tracks.

"What about her?"

"She's in the courtyard with Zephiel."

"How long?"

"They've been talking since he showed up."

"What!?" Desmond yelled, quickly closing the gap between himself and the soldier before hurling him against a wall. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry, sir," the soldier said, clearly out of breath. "I didn't know you would be so bothered by it. I'm only telling you because she wished for me to ask that you give Zephiel an audience."

Why would she make such a request? Or is it Zephiel trying to manipulate her?

"S–sir?" the soldier stammered. "Do you still want me to tell Zephiel to leave?" Desmond's eyes narrowed on the Bern soldier who couldn't have been more than twenty years old, the same age Desmond was when he took over as the King of Bern.

"No," he said in a flat tone. "I will talk to him." _Then he will never think to come here ever again._

"So where's my present?" Guinevere asked, pulling on Zephiel's arm. "Huh? Come on, where is it? Did you hide it somewhere on your wyvern?

"I would have brought it," Zephiel said, "but it would have been difficult to do so on my wyvern. Just wait a little bit longer, okay?"

"Aw."

"Don't worry," Zephiel said, playfully messing up Guinevere's hair. "I promise I'll bring it next time I come to see you."

"But I don't know when that will be. And why do you have to leave at all? And where is Mother? Why did she not come with you as well? And why are you two not staying here anymore?" It was at that moment Desmond showed up, much to Zephiel's relief.

_Still, _the young prince though to himself, _I would like to know the answers to those questions as well._

"My soldiers tell me you asked to have an audience with me," Desmond said.

"Yes."

"Guinevere," Desmond said, turning his attention to his daughter.

"Yes, father?" she said meekly, partially hiding behind Zephiel's wyvern.

"Go inside and wait for me to finish conversing with Zephiel."

"But…I want to stay here with him."

"Go on, Guinevere," Zephiel said.

"What? But why?" Zephiel looked at Desmond, then back at Guinevere, wondering how it was that his excuse of a family could possibly be put together.

"Don't worry," Zephiel said, gently grabbing Guinevere's arms and kneeling down so that he was eye level with his sister. "You and I will see each other again soon. I don't know when that will be, but I promise it will happen. Just don't lose faith in me, alright? Can you do that for me?"

"Ok," Guinevere said wiping her eyes. She went inside the castle with four soldiers quickly huddling around her as if they were all attached at the hip.

"Well then?" Desmond asked after Guinevere was out of earshot. "What is it? What is so important that you felt the need to disturb me, hm?"

"I wanted to ask you to allow me and mother back into the castle so that we may all be a family."

"You? And that wretched woman? In _my_ castle? Forget it! I'd sooner have Bern go to war with all of Lycia. I could care less what becomes of either or that woman you call your mother."

_He doesn't mean it,_ Zephiel told himself.

"And if I ever see you around my daughter, it will be the last thing you ever do."

_Why would he? He's just stressed, and he's taking it out on me. That's all. I know he cares for me. He just isn't sure how to show it._

"Now get out of my sight and _never_ return here."

_I will convince him to change his mind about mother and me if it's the last thing I do. He will accept us. I just know it._

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Of course. Please tell Guinevere to stay safe." Without another word from either, Zephiel got on his wyvern and headed back to the manse.


End file.
